Make You Mine

by Jackie Ashenden

He’d gone very still, that acute blue gaze moving over her. She’d seen him do it to other people, looking at them, studying them like a mathematician working out a complex problem. He was terrifyingly perceptive.

  But she wasn’t scared of that look. She had nothing to hide. So she waited, knowing he would guess what she’d come for.

  “You want to resign,” he said flatly.

  Katya folded her hands in front of her. “Yes. I have … unexpected business I have to attend to.”

  “Business? What business?” His tone was a knife, cutting through the space between them like a sword through silk.

  He had been, in many ways, one of her most difficult clients. Unpredictable, mercurial, and careless she could handle. Even his occasional arrogance–she’d had many an arrogant client before, after all. But when he was like this, hard and sharp, reminding her of the General, her father, or Konstantinov, her commander, all she wanted to do was obey him.

  She was a soldier. Following orders was what she did.

  But sometimes, to protect a client, a bodyguard could not follow orders.

  Sometimes a bodyguard had to give them.

  She squared her shoulders. “Private business.” Mikhail was no one’s concern but hers.

  “I employed you for six months. Not one. Not two and definitely not three. Six.”

  “Nevertheless, sir. I believe my contract allows for family emergencies.” Mikhail wasn’t technically family, but in every way that mattered he was.

  Alex stood there, his back to the windows, hands in his pockets, his extraordinarily handsome face full of that hard, bright, glittering thing, and Katya knew she’d made a mistake. That she’d picked not only a bad time but possibly the worst time of all to tell him.

  When he was like this he wasn’t just difficult. He was downright dangerous.

  Fortunately, she’d dealt with plenty of dangerous men in her life and she knew how to deal with them. Unfortunately, he was still her employer and she was still supposed to follow his orders.

  “No,” he said. “You’re not leaving.”

  “With all due respect, sir. I am. My agency has plenty of other—”

  “No,” he repeated. “I don’t want anyone else.”

  Katya said nothing. Silence could be worth more than saying any number of words; her father had taught her that well.

  “Tell me about your family emergency.”

  He didn’t like it when she was silent. Didn’t like it at all. Which sometimes made her stay silent more often than was strictly necessary. Especially when he was like this.

  She met his hard gaze. “That does not concern you.”

  “You are my employee. Everything about you concerns me.”

  At that moment there was a footstep behind her. Katya didn’t turn; she knew who it was. Had heard the bedroom door open and the shuffling footstep of one of his pickups from the night before.

  The woman–ignoring Katya as if she were a piece of furniture–sidled past her into the lounge, heading straight for him. “Alex,” she said, winding her arms around his waist. “Come back to bed. It’s early.”

  He wasn’t a cruel man to his lovers–Katya had watched him pick them up with charm and flat-out sexual magnetism, then say good-bye with more of the same, and they never left angry or disappointed. Or if they were disappointed it was only because one night was all they ever got.

  But when he was like this, he was cold. Untouchable. Remote.

  He moved, a sinuous, graceful movement that left the woman with suddenly empty arms. Impressive. Katya hadn’t known he could move like that.

  “I’m up, honey,” he said carelessly. “And I’ve got some business here. But you and Layla can stay as long as you need to.”

  “But I—”

  He shifted, another of those quick, fluid movements, and then he was silencing her with a kiss, his hands tangled in her dark hair. Just as quickly, he let her go. “Get your pretty ass back to bed and if you’re very lucky I’ll join you later.”

  The woman was, Katya was interested to note, flushed. Seemed to always be the case with Mr. St. James and the women he kissed. And she’d seen him kiss quite a few, since he didn’t appear to care whether she was there or not. Whether anyone was there or not.

  The woman gave a pretty pout, glanced at Katya, frowned. But did as she was told.

  As she left, Katya noticed that the atmosphere had changed and so had he. He seemed looser, relaxed almost. Another quicksilver change of mood.

  “So, where were we? Oh yes. You said you wanted out of your contract for an unspecified emergency and I said no.”

  Katya put her hands behind her back, preparing herself with military precision. “I’m sorry, sir, but I am going to have to insist.”

  He smiled, one corner of that long mouth curling. But she knew by now that his smiles had nothing to do with amusement. “Katya mine. Please don’t tell me you’re sick of me already? I didn’t think I was that much of a prick as an employer.”

  She’d never much liked the claim implicated in his usual endearment. Because if she was going to be anyone’s, she was the General’s. The army’s. Mikhail’s. Not the personal possession of an entitled, arrogant American billionaire.

  However, Alex St. James was a very good employer. He paid her a lot of money, and she was by no means ungrateful. But with the potential of Mikhail being alive, she needed to get home. Not only needed. She had to. There were promises she’d made.

  “You have been a very good employer,” she allowed.

  “But who will I have to kick my ass at Xbox? No, I’m afraid it’s not going to work. I’m going to have to keep you.”

  “Sir—”

  “My life is at stake. You realize this?”

  “Like I said, the agency has plenty of—”

  “You’re the best. And darling, I always have the best.”

  Katya said nothing. She was good at being the immovable object to his irresistible force.

  He frowned, a flicker of irritation passing over his face. Made a tsking sound. “No. It won’t do, sweetheart. It won’t do at all. Since my stepfather got shot, my life is in considerable danger. You know me. You know my routines. You know my surroundings. It’ll take time for another agent to learn this stuff, and time I don’t have.”

  He didn’t appear particularly concerned about any of these things, but then he didn’t appear to worry about things in general. Apart from when he got that sharp, glittering look to him, and then she guessed it wasn’t worry. That, she suspected, was anger.

  But he did have a point.

  She was a professional and doing a good job was important to her. Leaving a client in the lurch wasn’t a good look. Then again, this wasn’t something random. This was about Mikhail. A fellow soldier and a man she respected. A man her father had chosen for her as a future husband–at least he had been until he’d disappeared on a mission to Chechnya two years earlier.

  She’d thought he was dead–to the Russian government, he was dead. They couldn’t afford to get involved in any rescue, couldn’t afford to get involved at all. Mikhail had been told that if his unit was caught the government would deny all knowledge, and he’d taken on board the risks. That’s what a special forces soldier did.

  She’d tried to argue him out of the mission, but he hadn’t been able to say no. Then he’d disappeared along with his unit and no one would help her look for him. Not her father, the General. Not Konstantinov, their superior. Not any of the other military contacts she had. No one.

  Going to find Mikhail alone would have been suicide. Would have been treason. So on the outside, along with everyone else, she’d mourned his loss. While on the inside she made use of some other contacts she had and tried everything she could think of to find him, even a hint that he was still alive.

  And now, last night, two years later, after she’d left the army, left Russia, left everything of her old life behind, she’d gotten word that yes, he was alive.

  Which meant sh
e had to at least try to find him. Somehow. Someway.

  Even if that meant leaving Alex in the lurch. Because loyalty to a fellow soldier and a friend was more important than any other kind.

  “The White Knight agency is the best there is,” she said, cool and calm. “Their other agents learn fast and won’t let you come to any harm.”

  Alex just looked at her for a long moment, the crease between his brows deepening. Then he strolled toward her in that easy, fluid way he had, not stopping until he was inches away. He was smiling, his expression one of amusement, and yet his eyes burned sapphire, cold and brilliant as stars. “But like I keep telling you, sweetheart. I don’t want another agent. The only agent I want is you.”

  Katya didn’t move. Her soldier’s instinct was to obey him, since he radiated authority, but she wasn’t in the army now and hadn’t been for at least two years. No, she was her own woman and the strange, drifting life she’d been leading since she’d come to the States was over. She had a purpose now. A mission. A goal. And like she’d been trained to do, she would attain it no matter the cost.

  She met his gaze and said merely, “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “I’ll pay you double.”

  “I don’t need more money.”

  His eyes narrowed into splinters of intense blue. “Everyone needs more money, Katya mine.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then what is it you need?”

  Mikhail. That’s what I need.

  “I need to leave, sir.”

  He shifted in front of her and it was strange how suddenly she noticed that he was still half-naked. That he was warm. That she could smell him, a faint, woody, earthy scent, like sandalwood, with a hint of musk. It was not unpleasant. Neither was the warmth of him. And yet … She didn’t like it. Something about it made her uncomfortable in a way she hadn’t been uncomfortable before.

  She wanted to move, get a bit of space, but that would be to show weakness, and she couldn’t do that. Not with him. He was a gambler, and looking for weaknesses, any sign of the kind of cards you held, was what he did. And he was good at it.

  Then again, she was a soldier. And showing no weakness was part of who she was.

  And she was good at it.

  Katya met his gaze head-on. Giving him nothing.

  At least she thought he’d given him nothing. Until he smiled the kind of smile that would have taken any conscious woman’s breath away. “Oh no,” he said. “Sweetheart, you aren’t going anywhere.”

  And Katya knew that somehow, despite her best intentions, she’d given something away.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Secrets. The woman had secrets. Which was fine; he had no problem with them in the normal scheme of things. But this time he had a feeling it was those secrets that were taking her away from him, and that was not going to happen.

  Alex said nothing as Katya got out of the limo, holding the door open for him, her sharp gaze scanning the snowy street for danger. Not that there was any, he suspected, though after Tremain’s shooting you could never tell.

  He stepped out into the cold, his breath fogging the air.

  Ahead of him was the building that was Zac’s office, the HQ of his massively successful security firm, Black Star Security. Zac liked to keep the place, situated in a nondescript building in the Meatpacking District, low-key, a small metal plaque to the left of the door the only sign that you’d come to the right place.

  Zac didn’t need to advertise his services. People came to him.

  Alex didn’t look at Katya. “Stay with the car,” he ordered, and strode up the steps toward the door. He didn’t want her coming with him, especially not when he was going to talk to Zac about her.

  He’d let her have her secrets earlier that morning–if she didn’t want to tell him then she didn’t have to—but he was going to find them out nevertheless.

  Everyone had a price and he was going to discover hers.

  He wanted to keep her, family emergency or not, because he preferred her to the hulking, muscle-bound bastards he’d had for the past year or so. She was far more attractive for a start, and for another he generally felt more comfortable around women, period. Not that he’d ever tell anyone else that.

  There was also the fact that he’d spotted a spark of … interest–yes, definitely interest–in her eyes that morning. Interest in him.

  He’d thought she was immune. Apparently not.

  Alex smiled as he walked into Zac’s building, because shit, he was used to being irresistible, especially to women, and knowing she wasn’t as immune as she seemed gave him a certain amount of satisfaction.

  The reception area of Black Star looked like any reception area for any bland business anywhere, blond receptionist behind the desk, magazines on the table, stock standard uncomfortable office furniture. There was even a potted plant, for fuck’s sake.

  The blonde looked up as Alex entered, smiling at him. “Mr. Rutherford is expecting you, Mr. St. James,” she said pleasantly. “Please, go on through.”

  He blew her a kiss as he strode past toward Zac’s office, not bothering to knock as he approached the closed door, just throwing it open and going right in.

  Zac was sitting at his massive old-fashioned oak desk, typing something, his gaze fixed on his computer monitor. Sitting cross-legged on the end of the desk, her white-blond hair in a braid down her back, was Eva, who looked to be playing something on her phone.

  It was an incongruous picture: the large, broad-shouldered mercenary in a perfectly pressed suit, at the computer, with the small, fine-boned woman in Docs, skinny jeans, and a leather jacket sitting on the desk like a child.

  The two had a strange relationship. They weren’t together and they never touched, but rarely did Alex see one without the other. Zac had apparently rescued Eva from a difficult situation, but what kind of situation Alex didn’t know and had never asked about. Their little club–officially the Nine Circles, unofficially the “fucked-up billionaires club”–had pretty much one rule: Don’t ask, don’t tell.

  So he didn’t do either. Besides, he had too many demons of his own. He didn’t need to take on anyone else’s.

  Eva didn’t look up from the game she was playing on her phone as Alex came in, but Zac did. With perfect courtesy, he gestured to the chair opposite his desk, a deep leather armchair with a footstool. “Sit,” he said with his deep, smooth, and perfectly spoken British accent. “I just have a couple of things to finish up here.”

  “About my lovely and mysterious bodyguard, I hope?” Alex sprawled in the chair, kicking his feet up on the footstool.

  “Not only that.” Zac sat and began typing again.

  Interesting. Or maybe not so much interesting as worrying. At least the “not only” part was worrying. When Zac had something to tell Alex it was never going to be good, especially when he had a feeling he knew exactly what Zac was going to tell him.

  He crossed his feet at the ankles and folded his hands in his lap. “Nice to see you too, Eva.”

  “Alex.” Eva still didn’t look at him.

  He didn’t even bother rolling his eyes. Eva was another woman apparently immune to him, and not through lack of trying. He’d persisted more as a point of honor than anything else until eventually, after she’d told him to fuck off more times than he cared to think about, he’d come to see her more as a little sister than a prospective lover. Annoying at times, useful at others, but always part of the family.

  Like Honor?

  Alex shifted at the thought of his real sister. The one he hadn’t seen for nearly nineteen years. The one currently holed up with Gabriel Woolf, his best friend, in the guy’s Colorado lodge. She’d been trying to get in touch with him but he’d ignored her texts and e-mails. Didn’t answer her calls.

  He wasn’t ready to see her. He probably would never be ready to see her. He’d abandoned her and their mother a long time ago, and although he’d kept a watch on them from a distance, he didn’t actually want to talk to them.


  Fuck, what would he say? And Honor would have questions too. Like Where did you go? and What happened to you? and Why did you never call? Questions he wasn’t going to answer, at least not in this lifetime.

  Alex shifted again, pushing Honor out of his thoughts, concentrating on Zac’s almost obsessively tidy office, all sleek furniture and no clutter whatsoever. The guy was so anal when it came to tidiness it made Alex want to tip over his wastebasket just to see what would happen.

  “Come on, man,” Alex said restlessly. “I’ve got shit to do.”

  Zac made one last movement with his mouse, then looked over at Alex, his amber eyes giving nothing away. “You wanted a report run on Katya Ivanova.”

  “Yeah. Did you find anything?”

  “Apart from what I gave you when you first got her on contract?”

  “Obviously.”

  Zac leaned his elbows on his desk and laced his fingers together. “What’s your interest in her?”

  “Oh Christ, if we’re going to be having the third degree—”

  “A lot of her information is classified, which makes it difficult to get hold of. And difficult to get hold of means more work for me. I just want to know whether this is idle interest so you can fuck around with her, or whether you’re serious.”

  Alex put his hands behind his head and met the other man’s gaze. “By ‘fuck around’ I assume you mean…”

  “She’s female. That’s reason enough to ask.”

  Alex was aware that Eva had put down her game and was looking at him. He ignored her. He knew she had some kind of crazy protective thing going on when it came to women, and generally he was fine with that. But sometimes the assumptions she made about him pissed him off. “Jesus, can’t I ask a simple question about someone without you two assuming I want to screw her?”

  “No,” Eva said flatly.

  Resisting the temptation to be flippant, Alex looked at both of them in turn. “I never fuck around with my employees; you know this. The reason I want to know what’s going on with her is that she’s asked to be released from her contract.”

  “And you don’t want to let her go?” Zac’s gaze never left his.